Be Inspired by Miss Stone

Young Girl, don't you ever lose your wonder...   I remember many times, in this so called new South Africa, when I was treated differently because of the colour of my skin or the language I spoke. I cannot remember how many times I walked into a store in this city and was mistreated because I spoke English. As soon as I spoke Afrikaans, I was greeted slightly louder, the barely there smile grew bigger and the below par service I received was suddenly on par. Because I changed the language I spoke. Now, Afrikaans is my mother tongue, so I have no problem speaking it, but this behaviour shows me that to some, Afrikaans is superior. Better than. Higher than. Dominant.   This morning when I woke up, we were faced with more problems. Hair. The Afro. When you Google 'Afro', the first definition you find is this: 'A hairstyle consisting of a mass of very tight curls that stick out all round the head, like the natural hair of some Black people....

Look in the mirror, what do you see? For a moment in time, this is what I saw: Hair. Straight, but not quite straight enough. Curly, but not quite curly enough either. Not quite. Eyes. Brown. Not hazel or any other colour that would turn heads. Just brown. And when I smiled, I looked almost Asian. Almost. Just not quite. Nose. Round. Not long or pointy. Not quite as nice as those I saw in the magazines. Lips. Full. Full of colour, full of life. Too full maybe. Not quite as perfectly shaped as that fashion model I saw in the pictures in the Cosmopolitan magazine. Teeth. Gap toothed. Why didn't my parents ever consider braces? They are way too skew. Not quite perfect. Far from it. Arms. Not quite as toned as that star athlete at school. They are actually a bit saggy. Not quite good enough actually. Oh honey and those breasts. Certainly not quite as big as they should be. They don't fill those cups as they should. Quite frankly, they are not what the boys like. They are q...

I've been thinking of what to write for a while now, but nothing came to mind. I just could not think of anything worthy of posting. Well, not anything I thought would be inspiring anyway. I've been in a good place. Things have been falling into place. But yet, I still felt a bit frazzled for the past two weeks or so. And then, this 5 year old walked into my life and changed things. What is it about children that makes one feel so happy? Like authentically happy. The laughing from your stomach kinda happy. A 5 year old boy walked into my office today and sat down at my desk while I was doing my admin. He proceeded to draw a picture for me. One of the things he drew on the page was a snake. Looking up at me, he said 'I know you are probably afraid of snakes, so if we ever see one, you can hide behind me and I will kill the snake.' This left me in awe. Did I mention he is 5? As he continued playing in my office, I occasionally had to get up and do other things, but...

I used to wonder what it would be like. You know, living out my dream. It took me a while to get here. I had to jump over a few hurdles along the way. But I think now, it's finally sunk in. I obtained that Masters degree in Clinical Psychology and now my possibilities seem endless. I love what I do. I love waking up in the morning and giving thanks to the Lord, for blessing me, yes, but mostly for my happiness. For the sun that is shining on me again. For the opportunity I have been given to shine my light onto others. Marianne Williamson was right when she said 'It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.' For the longest time my light scared the living daylights out of me. Not anymore though. Not since I have learned just how bright it can shine. Now, there is no way I am dimming it for anyone or anything. God equips us with gifts. Talents. Strengths. Call it what you may. But he gives us these things, not to sit in a corner and wonder about how to u...